


Put Your Emptiness To Melody

by saint_applebees



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Don't worry it gets better, Fig/Ayda (mentioned), Gen, Kristen/ Tracker (mentioned), basically just 4k words of me projecting onto Aelwyn, idk what I'm doing really, this is my first time writing fanfic please be nice to me :'), this isn't a ship fic i just think they're all neat, this was supposed to be fluff but oops it got angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saint_applebees/pseuds/saint_applebees
Summary: Aelwyn does some gardening with the Mordred family. Healing/found family bonding ensues.
Relationships: Adaine Abernant & Aelwen Abernant, Adaine Abernant & Aelwen Abernant & Zayn Darkshadow, Adaine Abernant & Zayn Darkshadow, Aelwen Abernant & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Aelwen Abernant & Ragh Barkrock, Jawbone O' Shaughnessy & His Kids
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	Put Your Emptiness To Melody

**Author's Note:**

> tw// anxiety, PTSD, panic attacks  
> Pretty much the entire first paragraph of this fic is Aelwyn having a panic attack, and she has a minor panic attack later, so if that's not your jam, please feel free to skip this fic! Your mental health is more important <3  
> I originally wanted to write something that was very fluffy and feel-good because Aelwyn deserves it, but a lot of it ended up just being me projecting onto Aelwyn oops (don't worry, it gets fluffy later :)  
> title from the song To Noise Making (Sing) by Hozier

Aelwyn Abernant had never been perfect.

This was one of few things she knew to be true.

She clung to that truth like a drowning woman, the phrase echoing in her ears, crashing over her swirling thoughts in waves, screams and cries melting into a cacophony of _save me, save me, save me_ , desperately gasping for air as she drowned in her memories.

Heard the words echoed in Arianwen’s cool, even voice, as her mother’s phantom fingers pulled her hair into tight plaits; “You’re going to be perfect, darling.”

Heard her father’s absent, stern voice, chastising her for her poor posture at the breakfast nook; “Your back will get stuck like that if you slouch, Daughter.”

Heard a young Adaine, her baby sister’s voice screaming at her through angry tears; “You’re not perfect, so stop acting like you’re better than me!”

She felt the weight of the memories, the guilt, closing in around her, felt her throat closing up and saltwater run down her face as she pulled out her braids, clenching her fists in her hair and pulling, wanting nothing more than to scream. But all that came out was a choked sob, and she was so pathetic, she couldn’t even be decent enough to tell her sister about these stupid fucking panic attacks, her sister who had openly cried in front of her more times than she could count. Her little sister who was always so honest, who still cared about her for reasons she couldn’t understand, who was so much stronger than her despite all the times Aelwyn had tried to break her. Her baby sister, who she’d hurt so many times, who was so good, and so perfect in all the ways that actually mattered. She heaved, a fresh wave of sobs spilling out of her, and she felt so much smaller than her sister had ever been.

Aelwyn had never been perfect.

\---

She blinked her bleary eyes, cringing at the sunlight that streamed through the open windows and made her head throb, aching with a dull pain that was quickly becoming all too familiar. She didn’t technically need to sleep, but had taken to doing so since she’d been rescued from Fallinel. These days, she always felt so tired. Tired in a way that made trancing a fight to stay semi-conscious, that always ended with her slipping away into fitful sleep because the fight had slipped out of her a long time ago.

She groaned and pulled herself out of bed, shuffling over to the window to draw the thin curtains. They were pretty sheer, so it’s not like they did much, but they helped a bit. As much as curtains could help someone, anyway.

She noticed movement down in the cemetery and peeked her head out, half expecting to see that one creepy ghost kid that always hung out there. Granted, he was a ghost, so it's not like he wasn't allowed to. Or that she would want to see him anywhere else, really. She shuddered at the memory of the one time she was walking up the spiral staircase that led to her and Adaine's room (so unnecessary, really) and he just straight-up walked through the wall right in front of her. Thank the gods that she always had a Shield spell prepared; she probably would've tumbled down the staircase if it weren't for that. She was jolted out of the memory by a loud yell from below: "MORNIN', AELWYN!"

She jumped with a start and whipped her head around to notice Jawbone waving at her from down in the cemetery, waving a gloved hand in the air with a wide grin on his dirty face. She looked him over, taking in the flowery apron over a sweat-stained shirt and matted, dirty fur all over his permanently half-transformed werewolf body (he claimed that it was a political statement, and Aelwyn didn't particularly want or care to know what exactly he was supposed to be stating). She was about to yell something about how ridiculous he looks, and what the hell is he doing anyway, when another voice piped up, an equally sweaty, dirty, and smiling Ragh poking his head out from behind a crypt farther up the hill: "HEY, AELWYN! WANT TO HELP US OUT?”

She was about to yell back, _what the hell are you guys doing?!_ , when she was interrupted by Adaine’s voice, (seemingly have read her thoughts) (whether that was a sisterly talent or divination magic, she’d never know) yelling from somewhere out of sight, “WE’RE GARDENING!”

She ran into Aelwyn's line of sight from a spot directly under the Oracle's Tower and waved up to Aelwyn from below, that creepy ghost kid (Zayne?) standing next to her and smiling up at Aelwyn as well.

She sighed, and briefly considered just closing the curtains and going back to bed, pretending like she never heard the invitation. But she looked down into the exuberant, smiling face of her sister, smeared with dirt and sweat, and called out, (not quite as loudly as she’d wanted to manage), “ **I’ll be down in a minute!** " She closed the curtains and tried to ignore Ragh's excited whoops from off in the distance. She stood there for a minute, clutching the curtains in a white-knuckled grip, breathing in, breathing out. Breathe in for 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8. Breathe in, 4, hold 7, exhale 8. 4, 7, 8. _4, 7, 8_. She could hear Jawbone's voice, gruff and kind and ever so patient with her, _“Breathe in 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8. It’s going to be okay.”_

Everything is going to be okay.

She is going to be okay.

She wants to be okay.

She is not perfect, and this is okay.

\---

She steps outside, someone’s sandals (ownership of clothing items was mostly arbitrary at the manor, she’d found) trampling the dried grass and sun-baked dirt below her feet, pulling one of Jawbone’s enormous cardigans tight around her, feeling small and exposed in the harsh sunlight that reflected off the stark, white graves. Despite the warmth of the morning summer sun, she couldn’t help but shiver. Adaine jogged up to her, a tiny hand-held shovel (?) in hand and brow drenched in sweat. Jawbone followed, strolling up to her and clapping her on the shoulder with a smile. “Hey, kiddo! Good to see you out of bed!” She knows that he meant it genuinely, but she couldn’t help but cringe at the implication of it: _she was too pathetic to get out of bed_. She knows that it wouldn’t have hurt if it weren’t true, so she simply nods, and forces herself to meet his gaze, “So, uh, what the hell are you guys doing?”

He grins (gods, he had so many _teeth_ ; she didn’t think she’d ever get used to that), and gestures vaguely to the cemetery around him; “We’re cleaning up the cemetery! It’s pretty overgrown with weeds, so I thought, ‘Hey, why don’t we fix this place up a bit? We can make a whole day of it! Maybe even plant some flowers!’ Adaine was more than happy to help, and I was told that the other kids are gonna come by later?”

He looks at her, and she nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Fig said she would stop by the Compass Points to see if she could get Ayda too. Kristen and Tracker are… somewhere, but they’re here too! Fabian has sparring practice, and Riz has his internship, but they’re gonna come by later.” She prattled on, somehow excited by the idea of all her friends pulling weeds out of graves, and Jawbone smiled softly down at her, proud, loving, and ever the family that Adaine never had. Aelwyn felt a bit sick.

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting around to avoid meeting their gazes. “Isn’t that a bit disrespectful?” she interrupted. “Disturbing the dead, digging up their resting places, and all that?”

Zayne(?)(the ghost boy, whatever his name was) spoke up from behind Adaine, a quiet “Um-” and Aelwyn jumped, fully having forgotten he was there. He just had that forgettable quality about him, one of many things that she didn’t like about him. Another one of them (the most troubling, really), was the way that Adaine smiled at him as he continued, “-I was communing with the spirits, and they said they’d actually really appreciate it. Makes the place, less, uh, decrepit looking.” He smiled sheepishly, and Adaine nodded in approval.

“Right! Zayne and I were thinking we’d keep the ivy on the actual house-”

“-to preserve some of the aesthetic,” he added.

“But just cause the place is old doesn’t mean it has to look so-”

“-macabre?”

“Right, exactly.” She grinned at him, then turned back to Aelwyn, who was having something of a hard time keeping the disdain off her face. “So, will you help? Fair warning, it’s probably gonna be hard to do in pajama shorts and flip flops.” She smirked at that last bit, pointedly gesturing to Aelwyn’s already dirtied feet with her weird tiny shovel. Aelwyn, old instincts kicking in, squared her shoulders and did her best to look disdainful (as much as one can in a tie-dyed corn t-shirt and pajama shorts), turning up her nose as though insulted. She huffed, “I’ll be able to handle myself just fine, thank you. Why don’t you just hand me one of those, the-” she broke off, gesturing back at Adaine’s foreign hand shovel. Adaine raised her eyebrow and held it out to her, “-trowel?”, she offered.

“Yes, that.” Aelwyn snatched it away from her, and strode off towards… well, away from there. Her ears burned with embarrassment, and she could feel Adaine watching her back, probably staring at her with that confused, sad, worried, pitying look on her face that she wore so often these days. Aelwyn hated that look. She hated being fragile, being looked at like she was some breakable little porcelain doll that needed to be wrapped up in blankets lest she shatter at the slightest touch.

Aelwyn resolved that she would do this on her own, that she didn't need Adaine's help, and that she certainly didn't need the help of any of her damned friends. She could do this. She could at _least_ do _this_. If she could do nothing but be the best gardener that the likes of Elmville had ever seen, then by the gods, she would be it.

If she could do nothing else, she would do this.

She absolutely, most certainly would not, _could not,_ screw this up too. She would _not_ screw this up like she’d screwed up _everything else._

**She could do this.**

\---

_Unfortunately, it turns out,_ Aelwyn thought bitterly, _resolve doesn't mean much in the face of stubborn weeds with fucking roots of steel._

She had stalked off from the discussion in search of somewhere to be useful and had managed to find a relatively out-of-sight patch of graves that had a virtual jungle of weeds tangled around them. She had set to work pulling at them and quickly realized that you were meant to pull them out near the base because otherwise, the stem would snap and send you flying backward into the nearest headstone.

Lesson learned.

She’d since given up on the trowel, seeing as these weeds were, frankly, unnaturally large, and taken to wrapping the cardigan around her hand in place of gloves. (Like hell she was going to go back there and admit that she needed gloves, that she needed help. She’d done more than enough of that lately.) She was currently wrestling with an especially large weed, bracing her feet against one of the headstones, swearing that _if I pull any harder I might very well pull the damned coffin out of the ground._

She heard heavy footsteps from behind her and felt a shadow looming over her from behind. She whipped around, outstretched palm crackling with arcane energy, but dropped her hand when she saw who it was, letting the spell fizzle out harmlessly in her hand.

Ragh had jogged over, presumably to help her, and he looked like he'd been pretty hard at work himself. His chest was covered in sweat, dirt, and pale scars that crisscrossed all across his skin. He'd discarded his shirt, wearing nothing but gym shorts and chunky hiking boots.

 _Interesting outfit_ , she thought with a chuckle _, not that I’m one to judge._

He threw his hands up in a show of surrender, backing up a few steps when he realized he’d startled Aelwyn. _Like I’m some scared animal. Some feral cat that hissed when he tried to pet me. Good gods, does everyone think I’m so pathetic?_

“WHOA, HEY, sorry ‘bout that! Didn’t mean to scare ya, bro!” He beamed and lowered his hands, then nodded to the weed she’d been trying to pull. “Having trouble? They’re hard to pull when you’re not, like, super strong.”

She bristled, _he pities you, he thinks you’re pathetic because you can’t pull a fucking plant out of the ground_ , and she spat out the sharp words without a second thought, acidic words rolling off her tongue as they often had so many times before ( _so many times, so many times Aelwyn had hurt her_ ). “Yeah, well we can’t all be literal **monsters**.”

The smile fell off his face, replaced by a look of shock and hurt, his black eyes wide. _Shit._

“I mean, not all of us are ridiculously strong Bloodrush players. You’re probably the strongest guy on your team. And that’s saying something, cause Adaine tells me that Gorgug kid is on your team, and he’s got this fucking crazy heavy axe that I’ve never seen anybody else even pick up before, so that’s probably no small feat. You could probably pick it up.” she rambled, hoping that she hadn’t hurt his feelings ( _always hurting them, everyone around her, why was she always hurting people, even when she wasn't forced to, she still hurt them anyway_ ).

She hadn't meant to hurt Ragh's feelings; he seemed like a good guy, and he had actually been pretty nice to her since she'd arrived ( _more so than some of Adaine’s other friends anyway, which, like. Totally fair)_.

“I am sorry, really. I didn’t mean-”

“No, uh, it’s cool, dude.” he stammered. “I get it. It’s, like- old habits die hard, right? It’s okay, dude, seriously.” He gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Need a hand?”

“Please.”

\---

They’d been working together for a good few minutes, and had fallen into a sort of uneasy silence, occasionally punctuated by Ragh muttering something about _fucking magic undead weed bullshit-_ (Aelwyn doubted that the weeds were actually of an arcane nature, but cast Detect Magic anyway) (They weren’t magical, but she decided not to correct him), when he suddenly spoke up.

“They were assholes.”

She paused, frozen, kneeling in the dirt, thinking for a second that she’d just imagined it, but he was silent. She looked up, and he was standing a few feet away, looking down at her with a strange look on his face. She realized, with horror, that his eyes were welling up with tears.

“Sorry?” she choked out, fighting to meet his gaze, to not look away from those eyes so full of hurt, of regret, of guilt. Eyes that were a reflection of her own.

“Penelope. Dane,” he drew a shaky breath. “Daybreak.”

He kept Aelwyn’s gaze, but she noticed as a few tears began to silently fall down his face.

“He was, like, the closest thing I had to a dad. I saw him as, kinda, like, a father figure. But he was a total asshole. He used me to start the apocalypse, to hurt a bunch of kids… plus he was, like, hella racist too.”

She was silent, shocked speechless, as Ragh looked down, then back up at her, drawing a deep breath.

"So, I get it, man. I'm totally here. For you. It's, like, healing or whatever to talk with someone who gets it." He smiled sadly, and finally broke eye contact, looking down at the ground, embarrassed. "If you want to. No pressure, dude," he added.

Aelwyn was silent, too many thoughts running through her head, all blending together-

No. No. Not now. Not here. He wants to help you. Just talk to him. Just say something. Say something, anything-

_Save me, save me, save me_

She noticed too late the burning sensation behind her eyes, the saltwater on her face, the closing of her throat, the water filling up her lungs, her chest-

“ _Breathe.”_

“ _Breathe in for 4 counts, dude, c’mon, inhale for 4.”_

She breathed in, the air rushing from her lungs as a sob escaped.

“ _It’s okay, bro, just breathe. C’mon, inhale 4.”_

She breathed in, the air filling her aching chest, _1, 2,, 4_

“ _Hold for 7, exhale for 8, you’re okay.”_

She held her breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled in a rush of air that threatened to bring another wave of tears with it.

“ _Good, good, c’mon just inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale_

Inhale

“ _Hold_

Hold

“ _Exhale_

Exhale.

She opened her eyes and saw Ragh kneeling next to her, hand squeezing her shaking shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

“ _Feel better?”_ He smiled softly at her, a knowing look on his face, worry in his eyes. “Just keep breathing, okay? I’m here for you, bro.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him. He started humming quietly, some song that she didn’t know, but sounded almost like a lullaby. It was nice.

She breathed deeply, feeling the shaking subside.

Inhale, hold, exhale. 4,7, 8. _4, 7, 8._

She breathed in the smell of fresh earth, felt the solid ground below her, the low hum from the hurting boy at her side. She wasn’t drowning.

She was okay.

They were healing, and that was okay.

\---

They’d gathered up a bunch of the weeds in their arms and were walking back to the manor bearing the fruits of their labors, Jawbone’s (now very dirty) cardigan wrapped around some of the more prickly ones. Ragh was going on about something or another, ( _yeah, Jawbone’s a super cool dude, taught me that trick, have you talked to Jawbone yet, he could totally help you out bro)_ , back to being loud and boisterous as she’d ever seen him. (She had, of course, learned the same trick from Jawbone, but he didn’t need to know that.)

As they crested the hill, Aelwyn noticed bustling activity over by the entrance to the cemetery. The graves in this area had been largely weeded clean, and the smell of fresh, overturned earth filled her nose as she breathed deeply, taking in the scene before her.

Kristen, Tracker, Fig, and Adaine were all kneeling in the dirt, digging holes with their trowels (Aelwyn realized, belatedly, that she’d forgotten hers over by the other graves. Whoops.) and joking with each other, their laughter carrying all the way up to where she stood at the top of the hill.

She also belatedly realized that she now stood alone up here, because Ragh had started running down the hill, dropping weeds everywhere as he rushed (Aelwyn doubted he cared) to meet Fabian, who had just walked through the cemetery gate. He was chatting with Jawbone, Gorgug, and Ayda, each of them carrying several flower trays in their arms, bringing them over to where Zayne was standing next to a stack of… big bags? (She’d have to ask Adaine what those were later.)

She watched Ragh run down the hill and tackle Fabian and Gorgug, both of them dropping their trays (Fabian because Ragh toppled him over, and he dropped them when he fell; Gorgug because he dropped them to catch Fabian) and dissolving into a chorus of laughter and aggressive grunting.

 _Idiots_ , she thought, smiling to herself.

Jawbone, helping Ayda pick up the discarded flower trays, noticed Aelwyn at the top of the hill, and shouted to her.

‘HEY, AELWYN! MIND HELPING ME OUT?”

She yelled back, a bit louder than she’d intended, “ **Yeah, be right there!** ”

She ran down the hill, nearly tripping over her own feet, and couldn’t help but laugh. At the ridiculousness, the unreality of it all. Running down the grassy hill, wind whipping through her hair, the warm sun drying her tears; she felt so light in that moment, so free, she couldn’t help but just laugh.

Her sister grinned at her as she ran by, and Aelwyn couldn’t help but let herself smile back.

_I could get used to this._

\---

The rest of the morning had gone by much quicker than she’d anticipated. She’d sort of fallen into a rhythm the past few hours: weed the area, dig some holes, plant some flowers, and move on. As it turned out, the work went by much quicker when she was working with everyone else.

She’d been unsure and a bit uncomfortable at first, but Ragh had tried to walk her through it. This had gotten Ayda’s attention, who apparently also required instruction. Fig had butted in during his explanation, eager to prove that she was “a total expert at planting shit” (though, what she had to prove to someone who was already her ‘paramour’, as Ayda had put it, Aelwyn didn’t know), and Fabian had taken the opportunity to try and show off for Aelwyn (“You have to plant the flowers closer together, Ragh, otherwise they won’t grow together!”) This, in turn, had led to Gorgug reluctantly correcting them all, and Tracker defending Gorgug when Fabian claimed that Gorgug was “making him look uncool” (to which Tracker replied, “You were supposed to be cool?”).

Before Aelwyn knew it, she was caught up in the middle of their riotous laughter, good-natured teasing, and ridiculous conversation that she only ever really understood half of at best.

Eventually, Adaine ended up pulling her aside to garden with her away from her friends. (“ _I love them to death, but they can be so godsdamned loud sometimes_ ,” she’d huffed.) (Aelwyn had silently thanked her for that.) (She doubted she’d ever get used to their strange camaraderie, but she was trying.)

They’d been gardening for a few hours, her and Adaine working in amicable silence, Fig strumming her bass guitar in the background. (She’d worked for about 15 minutes before giving up and deciding to just practice instead, stating her need to “serenade her dear friends” and “be a font of inspiration for them” as excuse. Aelwyn didn’t feel particularly inspired, but having the familiar rock music in the background was surprisingly relaxing. Or maybe it was just that she’d heard these same songs of Fig’s more times than she could count since moving in. Thank gods she was writing new ones.)

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly above in the cloudless summer sky, relentless heat beating down on her back. Aelwyn could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck, and was wondering whether or not she’d actually get a real sunburn (she’d never got one before, and wasn’t particularly eager to start now) when she felt the air chill around her.

She tensed at the sudden temperature drop, and had just begun racing through thoughts of _did someone cast a spell on me and I didn’t notice, why can’t I move, what’s the point of studying abjuration if I can’t even protect myself from_ when a water bottle was shoved in front of her face.

She blinked, once, twice, and looked up into the pale, semi-translucent, smiling face of Zayne. Which, of course, meant that she looked up almost directly into the sun that shone ever brightly through his spectral form.

She hissed in pain and rubbed at her eyes, dark spots speckling her vision, and Zayne leaned over to sit ( _actually, really more of hovering_ , she noted) on the ground, muttering quiet apologies of _oh, sorry, my bad, my bad_ , and held the water bottle out to her yet again.

“Here. You should drink. Adaine asked me to grab one for you too.”

She raised an eyebrow, and snarked (with maybe just a bit of genuine curiosity behind it) at him, “How come you can hold a water bottle, but you can’t, I don’t know, do something actually helpful and pull some weeds?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, honestly. The whole ‘being a ghost’ thing didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

Adaine snorted (an “undignified” habit that she’d never been able to shake, and frankly, Aelwyn was glad for it) and turned to Aelwyn.

“Well, I’ve actually been looking into ghost stuff lately, because being a ghost seems super cool-“

(“It is pretty cool,” he whispered, just for Aelwyn to hear.)

“-and I think it probably has to do with him not being able to interact with anything living.”

(“Physically, at least.”)

“He can touch and move inanimate, non-sentient, non-living objects, like a plastic bottle. But he can’t interact with anything that is living, or possesses life-giving qualities. It’s why living beings, sunlight, food, etcetera, pass right through him. For example-“

Adaine uncapped her water bottle and threw the water through Zayne’s torso, which splashed all over Aelwyn, drenching her shirt.

A shit-eating grin spread over her face, as Aelwyn looked up, a matching grin slowly stretching across her face as well.

“Oh, I KNOW you did not just do that.”

“Oh, but I DID. What are you gonna do ab-”

Adaine was cut off by a splash of cold water to the face, her wet glasses blurring Aelwyn’s triumphant smile.

“Oh, you BITCH-“

Aelwyn cackled, leaping away as Adaine lunged for her, brandishing her half-full bottle like a weapon. She leapt up from the dirt, clothes muddied, and Zayne giggled at the muddied, laughing sisters as they chased each other across the cemetery, looking absolutely ridiculous all the while.

—

Not 5 minutes later, the Abernant sisters plopped down onto the muddy grass; exhausted, drenched, and grinning from ear to ear.

Aelwyn laughed breathlessly and listened to her baby sister beside her do the same, giggling and snorting and ever-so imperfectly perfect in every way.

Aelwyn Abernant closed her eyes, and knew that she’d never be perfect.

But she knew that Adaine loved her.

She knew she would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I just think that Aelwyn deserves everything ever :'))  
> This is my first time writing fanfic, so any feedback or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!! Also, if you have any other fic ideas that you'd like me to try and write, drop a comment!! I'd love to try and write more, especially since I've got a lot more free time on my hands these days :)  
> Come yell with/at me (dealer's choice ;) on Twitter @beefrlyslowgold abt the abernants, anything dimension 20, or literally anything really (my dm's are always open <3)


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